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“See, I have set before you an open door, and no one can shut it.” Revelation 3:8

Imagine a place where becoming a Christian is a punishable crime—and your own family exacts the punishment. Where those who spread the Gospel among locals are deported if discovered. Where converts to Christianity face persecution, isolation, or even death as the price for their faith.

“Reema Goode” and her family are Christians working in a closed Middle Eastern country where all of these things are true. Yet they are also firsthand witnesses of a whole new trend that is taking shape in missions to Muslims. Despite all obstacles, God is opening miraculous doors in the Islamic world, where an unprecedented number of Muslims are becoming followers of Jesus.

In this powerful collection of personal stories, Reema takes us deep inside her Arab neighborhood to show how God is opening doors in just one of many Islamic communities. As she walks us through everyday life in a Muslim town, she reveals the diverse, creative, unexpected, and thrilling ways God is reaching her neighbors with the Gospel of Jesus Christ.

This encouraging, uplifting, and even humorous firsthand account of a Christian family living among Muslims will inspire you in your own walk of faith, teach you how to pray for Muslims and those who minister to them, and encourage you with the knowledge that God’s loving Light is penetrating the darkness.

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WHICH NONE CAN SHUT

TYNDALE HOUSE PUBLISHERS, INC.

Contents

Foreword.................................................ixAcknowledgments..........................................xiThe Story behind the Storyteller.........................xiiiPreface..................................................xviiCHAPTER 1: The Open Door.................................3CHAPTER 2: Dealing with the Fear.........................23CHAPTER 3: The Power of Questions........................43CHAPTER 4: When You Least Expect It......................63CHAPTER 5: Family Matters................................87CHAPTER 6: The Jinn and the Evil Eye.....................105CHAPTER 7: Dreams and Visions............................125CHAPTER 8: It Takes a Body...............................143CHAPTER 9: Mercy Drops...................................157More Information.........................................165

Chapter One

It was a winter night in Little Town, Arabia. The crisp evening breeze was a welcome change from summer's daytime highs of 120-plus degrees. As I shuffled through the irregular and unpaved hardpan streets, the warmly spiced smells of asha, the evening meal, arose from every house to comfort the chilly air outside. It was after nine o'clock, and as the women washed up the dishes, children who normally came out to play for a couple of hours before bedtime had opted to snuggle up in sweaters and caps indoors, in front of their televisions where it was warmer. The empty stillness of the well-worn streets amplified the quiet padding of my sandals on the dirt. A lack of streetlamps made the glittering stars above all the more vivid against the black sky. And that moon! A huge crescent, the very symbol of Islam, seemed to be hanging directly above our village like a signboard, a symbol of ownership. Joy bubbled up in my heart as I contemplated where I was and what I was doing. Here, beneath the dominating rule of the Crescent, I was on my way to a Bible and Quran discussion with neighborhood women.

"Come ... and bring the books!" they had said. But even more amazing was that they had said it often. Within eighteen months of arriving, our family had been able to share the Gospel at least once with virtually all of our neighborhood friends, and God was confirming His Word to be true in their individual lives. It was incredible the way He opened doors, and it had all started in a quite unexpected way through a rather ordinary event.

We had just moved into the neighborhood and hadn't put much effort into meeting the neighbors yet, as we needed some time to adjust to simply "living" first. There was no city water, so the tank on the roof had to be refilled by water truck every five or six days. Every morning we filtered our drinking water and put it in the refrigerator to cool. The fridge wasn't coping well with the desert heat, so we purchased only a little food at a time to avoid its spoiling. In those first weeks, it seemed like nothing worked the way it was supposed to, or at least not the way we were used to. The oven had no mechanism for telling temperature; it was simply "on" or "off," which suddenly made cooking a new challenge. Our first load of laundry had been torn to shreds by the washer, limiting our limited wardrobe even further. We had not been able to flush the toilet for two days, and floor drains in the kitchen and bathrooms were plugged with trash, toys, and rags from previous tenants. Knowing that hospitality is such an important part of Arab culture, it seemed there was little point in meeting the neighbors until we had a decent place to invite them to. After initial greetings and small talk, it is polite to say "Taali bayti" ["Come to my house"], and we wanted to be ready for them to take us up on that offer. However, there was another reason we hadn't met the neighbors yet, which we wouldn't find out about until later.

Apparently, the mutawwas had warned the local people about us. Being religious teachers who provide guidance and spiritual assistance, they told their flocks that foreigners who come to work in Arabia are Christian missionaries sent to deceive their children, bring in immorality, destroy their families and country, and corrupt Islamic society as a whole. Of course, it's true that we were (and are) Christian missionaries, but our motives could not have been more opposite that description. This erroneous preconception was to become the first hurdle that God overcame for us.

Before coming to Little Town, my husband, Mike, and I had had to fulfill some specific requirements of our mission board, in addition to regular Bible training, to prepare for work in the Muslim World. We read books on Islam and cross-cultural issues, and Mike got some very practical experience reaching out to a Muslim population within the United States. The history of missions to Muslims overall seemed pretty discouraging then. In the past, Christian workers had sacrificed so much; they had labored so long and so hard over years and even lifetimes, with seemingly little fruit. In those days, the evangelical Church in general had little knowledge of the Muslim World. There were very few workers and little prayer support.

However in the 1990s, through the emerging focus on the 10/40 Window and the headlines generated by Operation Desert Storm, all that changed. The face of the worldwide Church turned to look upon the unreached masses of humanity living under Islamic rule. Multitudes of Christians around the world began to pray, and things started to happen. Followers of Christ began to find ways to become residents in Muslim countries where missionary activity is banned by law and constitutes a punishable crime. God began to open doors that were previously shut tight. We believe that our experience in Arabia is a direct result of the dramatic increase in intercessory prayer being made for Muslims and missionaries to Muslims by the Church around the world. For us, the door to our neighborhood began to crack open in a very unexpected way, through the humble means of a car that wouldn't start.

One morning as I was getting our three-year-old son, Tim, ready for the day, my husband, Mike, and I noticed the sound of a car engine outside turning over and over without catching. Being a "motor head" from his youth, Mike naturally went out to see what was going on.

He stepped outside our concrete block house into the gravel yard and a warm, sunny winter's day. A few more steps and he was through the metal gate that permitted entrance to our yard through a seven-foot-high wall. All the concrete houses had concrete walls surrounding them, giving privacy to women who had to emerge from homes to hang wash or go to kitchens, which were usually not attached to the rest of the house.

Since cooking smells in the home were considered unpleasant, incense was burned in all the living quarters to give a fragrant, welcoming smell. Mike could smell the after-breakfast incense in the air as he came out into the dirt road.

There were homes in all directions, with no apparent order or municipal plan. Some of the streets were barely wide enough to drive through; others could accommodate five cars parked side by side. In fact, when visitors came to any particular house, there often were several cars parked that way in the street at once, blocking it completely.

On a weekday morning like this, however, few...